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Beijing-Hong Kong Memories

Liang Weining rose to become a 'favorite' of Mr. Chen, the capital magnate of the Hong Kong Region, in just six months. The outside world said she climbed up by her beauty. No matter how good a vase might look, it can't escape being discarded once the owner grows tired of it. As such, everyone watched and waited. After three long years, they finally received news of Liang Weining's dismissal. While the entire upper circle thought Liang Weining had become history, nobody knew that on the eve of New Year's Eve, an entertainment reporter captured a romantic moment. In a black business car parked underneath the Zhonggang headquarters building, the backseat window was half-lowered, and Mr. Chen, who was always dignified and composed, unexpectedly lost control. In the mottled shadows, he grabbed the chin of a young girl and kissed her fiercely. The photos were exposed that same night, and a heavy snow fell over the Eastern Suburbs of Beijing. Inside the Mid-hill Villa, the fireplace blazed warmly. The man took the girl's soft, boneless hand from behind and guided her to write on the Xuan paper: Chen Jingyuan. "When will we go public?" he asked in a low voice. As soon as he'd finished speaking, the mobile phone screen lit up. The exclusive breaking news headline from the Hong Kong media flashed before their eyes again, and Liang Weining fretted over the news title, "Let's wait a bit longer." Chen Jingyuan's voice was slightly deep, "What are you worried about?" "My dad's blood pressure has been unstable lately." Years later, Mr. Chen gave an interview to the media, addressing personal issues. Reporter: "For you, what was the biggest obstacle in pursuing Mrs. Chen back then?" Mr. Chen paused for a few seconds, then smiled lightly, "My father-in-law's blood pressure." - High-ranking man X female secretary | 90% sweet | 8 years older.

The question to the star · Thành thị
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
256 Chs

Chapter 080: Crematorium

These past few days, her parents had been busy dealing with a relative's funeral.

Early on the sixth day, Liang Weining took a taxi to the high-speed railway station by herself. Before leaving, she left ten thousand yuan at home.

Divided into two parts.

Seven thousand were placed under the heat-insulating mat on the dining table.

The remaining three thousand, neatly stacked, were tucked into Old Liang's private money stash.

This location was shared with her alone, as it was Old Liang's ultimate secret.

In the new year, she hoped her father's private savings would grow even more.

After one last look at the home decor, Liang Weining felt a twinge in her nose. She pulled the door closed, locked it with the key, and took the elevator downstairs with her suitcase.

On the way back, time seemed to fly by.

When she arrived in the Hong Kong Region, it was five in the afternoon.